<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Sensors OFF by Kiyuo_Honoo</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23739637">Sensors OFF</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kiyuo_Honoo/pseuds/Kiyuo_Honoo'>Kiyuo_Honoo</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>BTHB [Transformers Edition] [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Transformers (Cartoon Generation One)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Injury, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-03 01:20:55</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>796</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23739637</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kiyuo_Honoo/pseuds/Kiyuo_Honoo</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Jazz/Prowl</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>BTHB [Transformers Edition] [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2213286</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>73</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Bad Things Happen Bingo</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Sensors OFF</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Prowl grit his denta together as he shifted his left doorwing. The appendage hurt, undoubtedly due to getting slammed into by one of the Decepticons they were fighting earlier. Unfortunately, it was right by the hinge and he could feel how the metal had warped to press unpleasantly against the sensor nodes inside. It would have to wait to be cared for. Ratchet and Hoist were already busy with other repairs from those who had been in the battle, they even had to bring Wheeljack in to take care of some of the lesser repairs needed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Opening the file system to his doorwings on his hud, Prowl quickly switched the sensors for the left wing to OFF. His right doorwing was fine and had no reason to have the sensors off, but the left would only cause him immense pain if he accidentally smacked it into a door or door frame. Plus there was no reason to worry Jazz more than he already has. The saboteur could still feel hints of his pain leaking through the bond even after they’ve both closed it to keep themselves focused on other matters.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wiggling his wings to make sure he had internally turned the sensors off currently, Prowl gave himself a nod and went about doing his usual business after a fight with the Decepticons.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Across the ARK, sitting in the rec room with a few that weren’t involve in the fight and those who had been discharged from the medbay and were refueling before disappearing to their habsuites, sat Jazz. His visor hid the expression in his optics and he kept his cube hiding his mouth as he contemplated the faint tingles of pain passing through his bond. It took the first sharp stab before it petered off to a faint tingle, to know that his Prowler was hurt.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And the mech wasn’t doing a thing about it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was just like his Prowler. Let the medics deal with those more injured and ignore his own pain if it wasn’t ‘too serious’. Jazz highly doubted it was anything small but evidently his bondmate was doing his best to hide it from everybot considering he hadn’t even walked in for his ration yet. Even with paperwork, Prowl would still make an appearance to grab a cube before disappearing back to his office or their habsuite if it wasn’t too confidential.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Slamming back the rest of his cube, Jazz crushed it to disperse it before standing up and heading to the dispenser for Prowl’s ration. Slipping it the cube into his subspace, Jazz walked out of the rec room and headed to where he was 99.9% sure Prowl would be. His office. And no surprise at all that he was there.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jazz stood in the doorway, watching Prowl walk around his office and put datapads away. He frowned when his partner turned, watching how his left doorwing smacked into the shelf and there was no reaction besides the tiniest twitches from the right appendage. Prowl normally would have avoided that, what with how sensitive those things were. Which meant he turned the sensors off.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stupid, stupid Prowl.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He walked in, letting the door close slide shut even as he kept his optics on Prowl. The other monochrome mech didn’t seem to notice him enter even as the right doorwing flicked in the obvious sign of feeling another frame. Jazz wouldn’t be surprised if the loss of sensory input on the left was keeping Prowl from realizing he was in the room.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It wasn’t until Prowl turned so enough for Jazz to see what he was hiding. He almost bit his glossa at the streaks of energon sliding down white and black plating. By the hinge was a massive dent, pushing the metal in and most likely cutting into the large cluster of sensors in the area. That could not do.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He strode away from the door, reaching out and grabbing Prowl’s shoulder to spin him around. He easily caught the fist heading to his face in reaction from the sudden grab.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Primus, Jazz.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Prowler. Did ya realize you’re bleedin?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tired blue optics shuttered, “…I am?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, ya bleeding sweetspark. I know ya were gonna hide this, but let’s get ya to Ratchet before he actually comes hunts you down okay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Prowl let out an affirmative sound, allowing Jazz to press against his left side and wrap an arm around his waist to hook his thumb into the seam of his hip joint. Prowl didn’t put up a fight as Jazz dragged him out of his office, staying pressed to his injured side as not only protective to what he couldn’t sense but also to keep others from seeing the damage he had hidden from the prying optics they passed.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>